


Excuses

by helens78, valuna



Category: Natural Nylon RPF
Genre: Angst, First Time, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-01
Updated: 2005-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Picture this in early '90s, with very young Jude and Jonny muses.  The Sean referred to, btw, is Pertwee and not Bean (we figure those who are familiar with Jonny, Jude and Ewan might've made the connection, but since we're both kinda famous for perving over Bean, and perving over JLM <em>with</em> Bean, it might be better to specify...).</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Like You Need An Excuse

**Author's Note:**

> Picture this in early '90s, with very young Jude and Jonny muses. The Sean referred to, btw, is Pertwee and not Bean (we figure those who are familiar with Jonny, Jude and Ewan might've made the connection, but since we're both kinda famous for perving over Bean, and perving over JLM _with_ Bean, it might be better to specify...).

For some reason Jude's got Jonny's face stuck in his mind.

Well. Not his face exactly. More like his lips, and the way they looked smearing themselves all over that guy at the pub as he dragged Jonny into the bogs.

It's not like Jude had never seen that kind of thing before. He's seen Jonny run off with all kinds of people, not to mention all the times he's run off with Sean, but this was different somehow. The sight of this one stuck.

And when Ewan can't seem to stop shouting and Jude's sure the fuck is going to go on all night, he slams out of his room, out of the flat, and he's still tugging his t-shirt on over his head as he gets to the stairwell.

It's not far to Jonny's; he's done it on foot more times than he can count. He heads down the street, takes the jog left and the right turn that put him on the right block. For half a second, he thinks he might be insane, but that's after he knocks on Jonny's door and it's too late to back out. He's here. Might as well make the best of it.

Jonny's working on a hangover. And he's got a pretty good handle on it. Just the right buzz from the joint combined with the Guinness. So he's a bit groggy when he answers the door, but coherent enough to know he's alone in the flat and not expecting company. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he blinks, focuses. Yeah, Jude.

"What you need, mate?"

"Place to sleep for the night?" Jude asks. "Sorry it's late... Ewan's got someone over and I couldn't take it anymore. I can go, if you're busy."

_Ewan's busy._ Code for the irrepressible Mister McGregor's getting laid. Jonny can imagine it's not easy sharing a flat with that bloke when he's in shag-me-or-I'll-die mode. He runs his hands through his hair, doing considerable spike damage to the already mangled bleach-blonde strands. The move stretches his t-shirt up, not that he's trying to entice Jude.

Jonny steps back into the flat. "C'mon in. We'll find you somewhere to curl up." _Next to me's fine, if you like._

Jude follows him in. Jonny might not be trying to entice Jude, but Jude's staring more than he should be. A flash of skin. Tousled hair. He wonders how drunk Jonny is, how buzzed. How much of what gets said, what gets done, he's going to remember in the morning.

_And that is not a good place for your mind to be going, mate, how much you can get away with because he might not remember it. Christ, what did you think you were going to do when you got here?_

Jonny's not so buzzed he won't remember. If there's anything _to_ remember. He's been watching Jude watching him, making sure he noticed the blokes he disappeared with, had even made a point of letting Sean press him into the pub's downstairs wall when he knew Jude was coming out of the loo.

"Couch is in pretty good shape," Jonny says, scratching at his stomach, nails raking red streaks over the pale flesh. "I can get you a couple pillows, blanket."

_Or you could offer to share the bed. Not like it's going to lead to anything. Jude's not the type._

"Don't want you to go to any trouble with it. I mean, if it'd take some looking -- it's late, I could..." Jude gestures helplessly and wonders if this might win an award for Lamest Way To Get In Bed With A Mate, Ever. _"If it's too much trouble to lend me the couch, I could always climb into bed with you." Be more transparent, Jude, would you?_

_Oh, fuck, Jude, just ask._ Jonny smiles, takes hold of Jude's wrist and shoves the front door shut with his foot. "C'mon with you. I'm sleepy. You can just curl up on one side of the bed." He yawns and tugs his midnight visitor down the hall. "Gets too crowded, just grab the pillow and hit the couch." _Or roll over on me. Doesn't matter._

"Yeah," Jude says, following Jonny into the bedroom, "yeah, this is..." And then they cross the threshold, through the doorway and inside, and Jude twists his wrist in Jonny's grip and tugs him backwards, pulls Jonny into the curve of one arm. "I just wanted this," he whispers, dragging him closer. "Is this all right?"

First move made and countered. Jonny chuckles, a warm laugh as he's tug-spun into Jude's arms. "What exactly is _this_, Jude? To hold me? Or you want more?"

"I want more." Just this once he can ask for it. Be honest about it. "I want you. Please?"

"What 'bout Ewan?" The question has to be asked. "No unrequited, soul-sucking passion there I should worry 'bout?"

"No." Plain and simple. "A couple handjobs on a slow night, sometimes." Jude hesitates. "You and Sean. Serious?"

"No. Nothing serious." Jonny's not sure how best to explain Sean to Jude, but it can wait till light of day and coffee. He turns in Jude's arms, facing him. "That what you wanting tonight? A handjob." He breathes the words out over Jude's lips, close enough to hint at the kiss waiting for him.

"It's a start," Jude whispers back, and he slides his tongue out over his own lips, then mirrors the trail across Jonny's.

Jonny allows one lick before he demands the kiss, lips murmuring nothings against Jude's lips as he slides his hand over Jude's thigh and presses fingers along the obvious bulge, a casual stroke through layers of fabric. It's a damned good start.

Someone's moaning. _Me. That's me._ Jude runs his hands over Jonny's body, no casual touches this time; for once, he's touching muscle and wondering how bare skin would feel against his palms and the idea that he's going to find out has him moaning all over again, noises muffled by lips meeting lips.

Finally someone has to breathe. Jonny admits the weakness first, pulling off Jude's lips reluctantly, even as fingers edge around buttons. "Undress for me, Jude. Want to feel your skin, not denim."

Point of no return. Jude tugs his shirt off over his head, lets it drop to the floor with other clothes and occasional papers, torn-open envelopes. He kicks his shoes off, shoves his jeans down his legs and steps out of them, pushes boxers down and leaves them in the pile.

"Don't think I've ever seen you all at once." Jonny puts his hands on Jude's shoulders, traces his fingers down Jude's arms, tracking and mapping and wanting to know every inch of this body. "S'nice."

"Stop it," Jude mumbles, but he's leaning into the touches, doesn't mean what Jonny's doing with his hands. The touches are good; it's the words that are getting to him. "You're overdressed."

Jonny grins. "Yeah, guess I am." He slides his hands off Jude's body just before he reaches the wrists. "Wanna take 'em off for me?"

Answering in words seems unnecessary, especially when Jude can get his hands under the hem of Jonny's t-shirt and push it up and over his head. There's a moment when too-soft cotton is tangled around Jonny's forearms, and Jude's cock jerks. A quick flash of image -- _Jonny on his knees with his arms tangled up in his shirt, pounding into him so hard he's biting through his lips holding back screams_ \-- and Jude has to stop, pull Jonny back into his arms so he can get his mouth on Jonny's all over again.

Someone got lost in the process, Jonny thinks as he's pulled back into kisses, t-shirt tangling his arms. There's a memory there, a razor-sharp one, and it has Jonny's cock hard and jutting out against his boxers. Or maybe it was a dream. One of the hundreds he's had about Jude ... on his knees, tied up, begging ... He relaxes, letting Jude take the lead for the moment, see where it gets them.

Jude pushes his hands under Jonny's waistband at his hips, shoves soft fabric down, the boxers catching on Jonny's erection before Jude's impatience makes him drag them down and _off_, dropping to the floor and puddling around his ankles. "Come on," he breathes, grabbing Jonny's wrist, grip maybe a little too tight. "Want you."

"How?" Jonny turns his wrist in Jude's grip, testing, grinning as it tightens instead of loosening. "Want me to shag you? Or drop to my knees, suck you off first?"

"I have to pick _one_?" Jude asks. "Fuck that. I want it all." There's an unspoken _because this is only happening this once_ in the back of his mind, but as long as he's here, he's going to ask for anything he can get.

"No, you twat, you don't have to pick one." Jonny rolls his eyes, shakes his head as he steps Jude back toward the bed. "Daft bugger. Want me down, I'll go." One night. Won't hurt. Maybe it'll be -- no, Jonny thinks, can't go there, not going to be more than one night 'cause Jude'll come to his senses in the morning. "You want on the bed?"

"Good a place as any." Jude takes the few steps over to the bed and slips in. The sheets smell like Jonny. He's going to have it all over his skin and _God_ it's almost enough to come from then and there.

Jonny slips in beside Jude, under the sheets, curling into his oldest friend's body. He lays his hand on Jude's thigh, splays his fingers and slides them in, knuckles brushing the cock, fingertips nudging the heavy sacs. He kisses Jude's neck, nuzzling until his mate's -- lover's? -- head is tilting back and he can lick over the pulse point.

"Oh--" Jude's lips part as Jonny touches him, kisses him, makes him shake when Jonny's tongue runs over that sensitive spot on his neck. Not just fucking. It's too warm for that, intimate already, and Jude turns to get as much full-body contact with Jonny as he can.

Touching at all points, contact made and remade, fingers ghosting along Jude's thigh and then sliding in at the back of his knee, rubbing gently. He kisses Jude's lips, soft lick. "Tastes good," he mutters, one hand twining into Jude's short hair as he presses in, nudging Jude back toward the wall.

It shouldn't be this easy, but it is: everything matching up beautifully, the pieces fitting, Jonny shifting and Jude moving to accommodate him, winding arms and legs around each other and taking their time. Only there's more than a small part of Jude that doesn't _want_ to take his time; he kisses Jonny harder, deeper, hands roaming a little more insistently.

It is easy. And slow. And there's nothing wrong with that. Except that Jonny's not used to slow. It's never slow with Sean or the others. Maybe it's supposed to be that way with Jude, taking time, exploring. But then the kiss is deeper and Jonny has to respond, has to move his hands, twist fingers into brown-blond strands and tug hard, pushing Jude onto his back.

Jude goes, too eager now to bother hiding it. He parts his legs and draws Jonny fully on top of him, squirming underneath him and panting, kissing Jonny's throat. "_Yes_. God. Want you."

Jonny stretches out over Jude's body, their cocks pressed together, and he rifles under the pillow. Got to be a condom in there. Fingers find a ripped packet and Jonny frowns, but kisses the side of Jude's head. "Hold on, luv, just a mo." He reaches to the back corner. "Aha. Knew it was there." Success. He pulls his hand back, foil packet and small tube clutched in his fingers.

"You got a pref? Facing alright?"

"Facing's fine." Jude's off-kilter, looking for a way to ground himself again. "Hope you don't mind if I bite." _That_ might do it. Putting toothmarks all over Jonny's shoulders, knowing later if he squeezes him, friendly kind of squeeze, he'll feel it aching all the way into muscle... _mm, yes._

"Nah, g'head." The comment throws Jonny for a second. _You want to play like that, Jude?_ He hasn't figured his mate for rough, but you never know. "S'long as I get to bite back."

"Yeah," Jude agrees immediately, running his hands down Jonny's back and digging his fingernails into Jonny's arse. "I think someone was going to fuck me..."

Jonny moans, nails biting into flesh. "Yeah, someone," he says, face contorted with his mind being occupied elsewhere. He shakes it off, kneels up between Jude's leg, drops the lube on Jude's stomach and rips open the condom packet. "If some other someone will stay still for a moment."

He works with a practiced speed, unrolling the condom and tossing the crumpled foil onto the floor. Picking up the lube, he pauses. "Oi, mate, stupid question. You _have_ done this before? I'm not like treading in virgin territory." He grins, nods that he knows the answer's yes, Jude's been shagged.

"Would you like to be?" Jude asks, but the ironic glint in his eyes says it'd all be an act. He could probably do a convincing virgin; he's not a virgin, but he is an actor.

"Oh, yeah, Jude," Jonny says, slicking his fingers with lube, pushing Jude's legs apart and up over Jonny's thighs, "play the virgin for me. Wanna be your first." Satisfied with their positions, he works two fingers into Jude's arse a helluva lot more roughly than he would for any virgin.

It hurts. But it doesn't hurt as much as Jude makes it look like. _You want me to play? I can play._ His eyes squeeze shut, his head drops back, and he curls both hands into the covers. "Christ, Jonny, not so rough."

"Not so rough," Jonny says, twisting his fingers and stroking over Jude's prostate. "From the boy who wants to bite?" He dips down, dropping his head and licking over Jude's nipple. "I think you like it just like this. On the edge."

"On the edge of what, mate?" Jude asks, hissing in a breath when Jonny's tongue runs over his nipple. "Edge of sanity?"

"That where you are?" Jonny bites, nibbles at the flesh an inch out from the nipple. He twists his fingers again, scissoring and then curling them in on each other, making a tiny fist. "Like it, I bet." Jonny knows he does. Loves it. Finally getting this taste of Jude's body, nearly five years in the wanting.

Jude meant to reply, some kind of witticism, but then there's Jonny's mouth and his fingers curling up in him and _God_ it's all Jude can do not to fist his hands in the bedcovers and beg. As it is, he ends up arching his throat, squirming down against Jonny's hand. It's all so much better than he expected.

Damn, but Jude squirms well. It's all Jonny can do not to come right then, just from the look on Jude's face. He jerks his fingers out, wiping them on the nearest patch of sheet and repositions, pulling Jude's legs wider as he presses his cock against the tight opening. Then he pushes forward, sliding his cock in a few inches, stopping. "Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, "damn, so good."

"It's been a while," Jude admits, a moment's quiet honesty. He reaches up, gets his hands on Jonny's arse and pulls him closer. "Come on, Jonny. _Fuck me_."

"Yes, sir." Jonny pulls back and pushes in again, all the way this time, twice before he sets up a solid rhythm. It's not harsh or brutal, just steady and deep. Better than he ever imagined, even.

Every thrust has Jude pushing up, needing more, wanting as much as he can get. He doesn't want it to stop. Just wants to keep feeling this way for as long as he can hold on to it. _Jonny._ Jonny's cock in him, Jonny's body all over his, and suddenly it's not enough, isn't ever going to be enough, and Jude sinks his nails into Jonny's arse and pulls him down harder. "_God._ Fuck. Wanted this. You. So much."

"Hell, yeah," Jonny murmurs, slammed deeper inside Jude by the tug forward. He stretches up Jude's chest to breathe kisses over his lover's lips. "Since the day I fuckin' met you. Wanted to taste you, feel you. Have this."

_What the hell were we waiting for?_ Jude asks, brain fuzzy from pleasure and body driving him to complete distraction. "Got me now," he pants. "Taste me. Feel me. Have me."

"I am." Jonny kneels back up, hands clutching at Jude's hips, tugging him up tighter, pulling back and slamming forward this time, shoving Jude's head farther up into the pillows. He settles back into a more bruising rhythm, then wraps his fingers around Jude's cock, tugs up sharply. "Wanna come, Jude? Let me taste it."

Jude's nails rake hard red lines down Jonny's arse, up his back, and Jude tries to speak and can't form words. He's still unable to form words when he starts coming, cock jerking in Jonny's hand, mindless screams coming out one after another.

It's too much, Jude's cock in his hand, spilling out white streams over his fingers, and even if Jonny wants to, he can't stop from coming. He does it with a near-brutal thrust, shoving deep into Jude's arse, sliding into orgasm with the finesse of popping a pinball into the triple-score corner without tilting the table. And the reward's just as sweet.

The first coherent thought Jude has afterwards is _oh, fuck_, followed closely by _oh, God, what was that?_

And then the rational part of his brain kicks in -- _it was a fuck. No, it was a damned good fuck. With a friend. And that's it. That's all. So stop fucking thinking._

Easy enough. It's hard to think with Jonny's weight on him, with both their breathing out of joint, and the world's really not back in focus yet and won't be for a while.

Jonny pulls himself up, after a long minute, after figuring out which way is off, after remembering he _can_ breathe. He takes care of the condom, tossing it toward the wastebin, and settles in next to Jude, stretching out, wrapping his foot over Jude's ankle.

The world's still out of focus, but Jonny likes the skewed vision. It has Jude and there was this incredible fuck. With Jude. Jude, who's not serious about Ewan. _Oh, fuck._

Jude's breathing slows, eventually steadies. He runs a hand down Jonny's arm. "Would it be more awkward to stay or go?" he asks quietly.

"Go. Definitely. Don't." Jonny's hesitant. Should he stay or should he go? Not Ewan's. _You can have him, Jonny._ "Stay and sleep. No sense in leaving now."

"All right," Jude says, settling in, finally letting himself exhale, relax. "Rather be here than home anyway," he mumbles, not really aware of what he's saying. "Thanks for the bed, mate."

"Would rather have you here," Jonny murmurs, reaching down and tugging the blanket up over them. "Long as you want."

"Morning at least," Jude says, settling in. "I'll buy you breakfast."

Jonny rolls over, snuggles into Jude's side. "Breakfast sounds good." He thinks it's a great start, and he'll buy it the next time Jude shows up in the middle of the night.


	2. Excuse Me?

This is wrong. It's cruel. But Jonny's not complaining of either, and Jude just... _Fuck it. If he wanted you to stop coming to him, he'd tell you._

So he knocks on the door, half past midnight, dressed in jeans that hang off his hipbones and a jumper. Someone's jumper. _Ewan's_ jumper. He's coming to Jonny dressed in Ewan's clothes this time. _Go on, Jonny. Tell me to fuck off._

Jonny's not asleep. Hasn't even thought of going to bed. He's sitting up, on the computer, working his way through the dungeons of whatever hack-and-slash game he's loaded. He can't recall. It's mindless entertainment.

Knock on the door, he ignores the first time. Then with the second, he pauses the game and pulls himself out of the chair, jeans half-buttoned and riding low, bare feet and bare chest, and pads to the door. Doesn't bother to check the peep hole. Only one person comes 'round this time of night. Jude.

He opens the door, and steps back, motioning gallantly. "C'mon in. Beer in the fridge. Couch freshly fluffed." It's getting to be a habit, Jonny saying yes, no matter what, even when he doesn't like that he's the afterthought.

"Thanks," Jude says, stepping inside. "Got kicked out tonight." Another excuse. He's run through all of them. _Construction going on next door. Ewan's snoring. Couldn't sleep at home. Have to be up early and I'm meeting someone on this side of town._ "Doesn't look like I woke you. What've you been doing?"

"Playing a game," Jonny says, shoving the door shut, not caring that it echoes down the hallway to the other flats. _Got kicked out tonight._ Good one. Better than some of the lies Jude spins for him. Jonny knows they're excuses, rationalizations for Jude asking for what he can't admit he wants. "Hmm."

He leans against Jude's back, sniffs. Hint of bike oil. Ewan's jumper. _How fuckin' dare you come to me smelling of him._ He controls his anger, though, channels it back into a rasp at Jude's ear. "Ewan get pissed you snagging his clothes?"

"First thing I found on my way out the door," Jude mumbles, pressing back against Jonny. Jonny can be so easy. He doesn't have a lot of buttons, but this one... _God, push push push push. Fuck, Law, but you're a bastard sometimes._

"Yeah. Maybe. If I wanted Ewan, I'd be at his place. Grab your own jumper next time." There's always a next time. Always will be, Jonny thinks.

"Whatever," Jude murmurs. "What kind of game?"

Jonny's not so dense, or in love, he doesn't know when he's being pushed. He allows it though, wrapping his arms around Jude's waist, nudging up the jumper, finding skin and rubbing his fingers over it. "Game's Underworld. Basic D&amp;D thing. You suddenly into vid games?"

"Just wondered what I'd have to do to get you away from it." Jude leans back, helps tease the hem up another few inches. More bare skin to touch. God, Jonny feels good. "What if I can't sleep?"

"You could count sheep," Jonny says, grinning, rolling the jumper's hem, pulling it up and over Jude's head. "Warm body beats out computer game. Arms up."

Jude puts his arms up obediently, still not turning around. He should. He should at least give Jonny that much, his eyes, his full-on attention, stop flinching away from this. Sooner or later Jonny's going to get sick of the games Jude brings over to play. But it hasn't happened yet, and Jude's not in any hurry to get pushed for a decision -- a commitment -- _whatever_ it is Jonny's going to want one of these days.

Jonny tugs the jumper off, tosses it over to the couch, the one that won't be used. Never is. Even with the premise of Jude sleeping there, he never does. Always ends up in Jonny's bed. Jonny should say no, should tell Jude to fuck off, go back to Ewan's, figure out what he wants.

But he doesn't. Might never. Nothing wrong with the status quo, even if it's weighed toward insanity. "If you really can't sleep, suppose I could help relax you." He rubs his fingers over Jude's nipples, pinching them into tight nubs. No sense in not taking what they both want.

"_Oh--!_ Fuck. That's not what I'd call relaxing." Jude twists himself out of Jonny's grip, gets a hand on the back of Jonny's neck and pulls him into a kiss. _There._ Maybe they're getting better at this. Maybe they don't have to make it a game every single time. _Just come here asking for what you want and see what happens, why can't you do that?_

He can't, though. He'd have done it by now if he had any idea how to make it happen.

That's not how the game's played. Not the right rules. And Jude's not getting away with being _this_ demanding.

"No, it's not," Jonny says, pulling back, biting Jude's lip in jerking through the kiss. "But I don't think you want relaxing." He smirks. "Wanna play my game with me?"

"That depends," Jude says, wincing when Jonny's teeth sink in a little too hard. "Are we still talking about the computer?"

"We could." He shrugs. "I was thinking of another game, though, one where you take the lead." _For once._ Jonny, almost in spite of his words, slides his hands down and works Jude's jeans over his hips. They slip easily, too loose to begin with. "M'in a mood to be shagged, Jude."

"Isn't that convenient. I've been thinking about--" Jude stops, bending down to get out of his shoes, frowning. _It'd be so bad to say it, wouldn't it. As if he doesn't already know. Who are you fooling other than yourself?_ "Come on," he says, finally kicking his jeans off. "You want to get fucked; I want to fuck you. That'll do for a game."

"Yeah, it will. Right nice game. One we haven't played." Jude lies with the conscience of a guilty man, and Jonny can see straight through him. But it's a game. He tugs his own jeans down, shucking them into a denim pool he kicks aside. "Pretense of romance? Or slam me over the couch?"

"I have to choose one?" Jude asks, and just like the first time together he's feeling greedy. Only this time he's got confidence backing it up. He wraps both arms around Jonny's waist, tugs him close. "We can break down the couch some other time. Let's go to bed."

"You don't have to choose, Jude." Jonny smiles at the snuggle. He likes it, in that it's a commitment, Jude making a move. "Being in bed doesn't negate the roughness." Then he's pushing into the embrace, rubbing his cock against Jude's. "Might be best to let me go to get to the bed, though."

_What's the hurry? Afraid I'm going to take off on you? I don't do that 'til morning and you know it._ There are limits to how much of a bastard Jude's willing to be, though, and he does want this. He lets Jonny go with a quick bite on the shoulder. "Go on, then."

Jonny shakes his head, leaves off on any comeback, and pads down the hallway, running a hand through his hair as he walks into the bedroom. He glances around, figures it'll do for Jude, and snags what they'll need from the nightstand drawer, putting it up top. _Don't want to break the romantic moment._ He just manages to keep from snorting.

Jude rolls into bed, stretches out his arms and lifts his eyebrows. "Come on," he murmurs. "Want to kiss you." He wants a hell of a lot more than that, but it's the first thing coming to mind, and the slow romantic approach sounds more appealing than he'd realized. It doesn't have to be a joke.

"Kiss me? Alright." Doesn't have to be sex from the get-go. Jonny stretches out beside Jude, legs entwining and arm tucked under the pillow.

Jude curls his arm around Jonny's shoulders, skin sliding against skin. It feels good, the way it always does, but something in the anticipatory tease makes Jude want to curl closer, nuzzle Jonny's lips apart softly with his own and slide his tongue in. Slow and deep.

Slow and sensual. It's not bad. Different. Could be good. Jonny slides his hand over Jude's hip, fingers ghosting more than touching, and lets Jude control the kiss, only responding as he needs.

Teasing, forward and then back, touches that don't go straight for Jonny's cock, the slow approach is better than Jude expected. He wonders, briefly, why it always has to start out with joking and attitude with them, but then one kiss leads to another, and the third short-circuits any thoughts in his brain. _God, I didn't know he could kiss that way._

Kissing's never been Jonny's forte, never thought of himself as a good kisser, but there's something about kissing Jude that makes it easy, more enjoyable, and suddenly he feels like he's been doing it right for years. It's hard, though, not to take control, to slide his arm around Jude's waist and roll him to his back, come up over him and tease with nips and nibbles. _Relax, Jonny, let him do it. Let him show you he really wants to be here._

And eventually Jude pushes Jonny onto his back, lips never leaving Jonny's skin. He climbs up, squirms 'til he's between Jonny's thighs, and he cups Jonny's face in his hands as he keeps kissing him. The kisses make him want to shiver; the feel of warm skin pressed to warm skin almost makes him want to skip the kissing, the foreplay, and move straight for the fuck. But there's a lingering worry that he's going to disappoint Jonny if he does that. And Jude doesn't know where it comes from. He's never been worried about disappointing Jonny before.

Jonny's starting to think he's going to drown in kisses, and then there's a thought that wouldn't be such a bad thing. He's never wanted so many kisses. Definitely not from Sean. He's not the kissing type. Jonny slips his arms around Jude's waist, clutches and pulls him tighter. Doesn't want to skip the foreplay now that it's started, except that he wants Jude inside him, with a craving he's never felt before, a need that has him thinking on where the flat's spare key is so Jude won't have to knock the next time.

If kissing were an interrogation technique, Jude thinks he'd be in trouble. This is so much better than he ever expected, even after as many months as it's been with them doing it this way -- Jude coming over with some excuse and not ten minutes go by before they're in bed. Jonny could lick the reasons for it out of Jude's mouth if he wanted to. And realizing that makes Jude press his hips down hard, insistently, ready to go deeper, push for more.

Push for more. Yes. What more is there? Jude showing up every night 'round midnight, looking for a place to sleep? Rather than just random nights. Or is more something beyond what they're doing now? More than kissing and shagging. Jonny doesn't know. Hell, he isn't thinking much beyond how Jude's cock is pressing hard against his, how he's aching for whatever the more is.

Right now _more_ means Jude wants to be inside Jonny. He doesn't want to stop kissing him in order to grope for condom and lube; he just wants to sink in hard, _now_. He gets a hand between them, curls his fingers around both cocks and strokes. _Oh, that's good._

"Oh, fuck, Jude, more." Jonny breathes out the words in a quick whisper. Much as he wants it _now_, there is a sanity in the back of his head. He's groping at the nightstand, grabbing for the condom and lube.

"Yes..." Jude strokes them both again, bends his head to Jonny's shoulder when the stretch and arch of neck is just too tempting. A quick swipe of his tongue over flesh and he bites down hard and solid, a bruise that would mark Jonny as _his_ if Jude were willing to claim him.

"Damn." Jonny spits out the word. He wants more and he's stretching, exposing more of his throat even as he snags the packets and shoves them at Jude's hand. "Fuck me, Jude. Please."

Jude jerks the condom and lube out of Jonny's hand, but he's still biting Jonny's shoulder, working his way up to his neck, one bruise leading into another and none of them feeling like _enough_.

Jonny's losing himself in the bruises. They'll be there for days, and they'll hurt every time he pulls his shirt on. That in itself is a delicious thought. He clutches at Jude's hips, digs his fingers in, letting his nails scratch over the flesh.

"OhGod. _Mine._" Jude tears his mouth away and fumbles with the condom; he can't wait any longer. _Can't_ wait. He gets the condom on and is tempted to go in just with that; he thinks better of it, though, and snaps the lid off the lube so he can coat his fingers and drive them in deep.

Lube or not, Jonny wants Jude's cock in his arse. Now. Like yesterday, even. He's squirming under Jude's body, stretching his legs and working on spreading himself wider, anticipating. "Yours, Jude," he says, not thinking about the implications of the word. "Take me then."

One last thrust with his fingers and Jude pulls them out, guiding his cock between Jonny's legs and sinking in slowly, one inch at a time, gritting his teeth together and letting his eyes close as Jonny takes him in.

Legs stretch, then wrap around Jude's hips, kick and tug, Jonny pulling himself against Jude's pushing. God, it feels good, and why haven't they done this before, why's it always been Jonny initiating, when Jude's damned good at this. "Oh, yeah," Jonny murmurs, fingers clutching at Jude's arms, "bit more, bit harder, mate."

_More._ Jude braces himself against the bed, pulls back. _Harder._ And shoves in again, hard enough to move Jonny a few inches up the bed, grinning down at him. "Like that?" he asks, giving him another rough, bed-breaking thrust before Jonny has a chance to answer.

"Hell, yes," Jonny shouts, "just like that." His fingers dig into Jude's arms, score marks and bruises. It's damned near perfect.

Closer to perfect than it's ever been, and Jude doesn't know why the hell he never took the lead before. _Because then you could pretend it wasn't your idea,_ he thinks, and the idea comes with an ugly rush of self-disgust that has him pounding into Jonny even harder. _Because you're too much of a fucking coward to let him know you want this._

_You could ask him to move in. Get this every night._ Jonny shakes his head. _No, can't do that. Disrupt everything._ He pushes his body down hard, enough to shake off the wanting something he probably can't have, and it only drives Jude deeper, to the point Jonny's screaming, not giving a damn if he's waking half the building, and his cock's wet with needing to come, and he's panting and can't get the words out to ask. _Just come. You don't need his permission._

And it's probably better that Jude doesn't know Jonny's thinking in that direction, because he's in a cruel mood. Has been since he got here. And he might just say no, not for any good reason but because he _could_. It's better not knowing how much power he could have over Jonny if he wanted it. It's better pretending he doesn't know. To say nothing of how much Jonny could get out of him if he asked.

Or maybe it should go back to the way it was, Jonny in control of where and how they moved. He doesn't know. He's getting too confused. Either way, he's not holding back. "Fuck, Jude, gotta come. Can't wait."

"Oh God, fuck, yes, come on," Jude pants, driving in hard and fast, suddenly so close himself he's going to go over the second he feels Jonny do it.

Okay, he didn't _need_ permission, but it's nice to have it. Jonny comes, his cock trapped between their bodies, pulsing out in harsh strokes against flesh, warmth soaking his stomach. He bites his lip, not holding back the scream but shifting it around a bit, forcing it out of his throat in whimpers.

The first pulse sends Jude over, panting and gasping as he slams in over and over, not wanting to stop until his cock's too sore to keep going. _Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Oh, God._

_Don't stop._ Not the smartest thing to want to scream. It's hurting, cock and arse, and Jonny's desperately wanting to beg for more. "Fuck, yes," he does let out, and then the climax starts to burn badly and he's breathing out in harsh rasps. "Christ, Jude, that's good."

Jude finally comes to a halt, collapsing on Jonny's chest and panting for air. He nods, unable to form words just yet. _Good. Fuck. Yes._

The only reason Jonny _can_ speak is because he has to, because he feels the awkward silence makes more of a commitment, something unspoken that means more than if there are words in the air. "That was brill, mate," he whispers, kissing Jude's face, not quite finding lips but close enough.

Groaning, half-laughing, Jude nods and rolls off Jonny, flinging an arm over his face and nodding. "Yeah, that was... that was really good," he agrees, not wanting the silence to settle in, either.

"Gonna stay?" Jonny settles into the bed, nudging against the wall, allowing Jude space to move, get comfortable. "Picked up scones on the way home last night." _Just in case you showed up._

He shouldn't. He shouldn't even think about it. He'll be leaving in the morning, and sometimes he wonders if that makes staying more cruel or more kind.

He nods, though, under the crook of his arm. "Yeah, I'll stay."


	3. Excuses, Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows _Like You Need An Excuse_ and _Excuse Me?_ but was actually the first one written.

It's two in the morning, and Jude is not as disheveled as he looks. He's not even that tired. But he made an artful attempt at mussing his hair on the way up in the lift, and his eyes are as bleary as an actor can make them. His shirt's untucked, tails hanging out over his khakis, but he stopped short of bringing over a pillow and a blanket. He doesn't have to make it look _that_ good.

He knocks on Jonny's door and then leans forward, hand resting on the doorjamb. It'll probably take another knock or two to get Jonny out of bed. No problem. He can keep knocking.

Jonny's sleeping. Or he was, until the pounding started. Well, it's not exactly pounding, but close enough when he was midnight crawling into bed and it's only, he glances at the clock, "2 friggin' a.m. Fuck." He pulls himself out of bed and pads out of the bedroom, down the flat's hallway to the front door. He glances through the peep hole.

"Great. Jude." The sigh's only half-hearted, mostly from sleep deprivation than not wanting to see Jude. He unbolts and opens the door, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Hi, mate. Trouble sleeping?"

"Ewan's got a whole rugby team in his bedroom by the sound of it," Jude answers. "You mind if I stay here for the night?"

"Rugby team," Jonny echoes. Thought's a bit odd, since he fancies Ewan more a football man, but rugby players are nice and Ewan _would_ have the whole team if he were having one. Kinda like those crisps Americans like. Lays. Can't have just one. "Sure. Stay. You want the couch?"

_No, not really._ Jude steps inside, wonders which excuse is going to get him from the couch to the bed this time.

This time it's easy; the couch cushions look lumpier than normal and in the dim light it's not difficult to think part of the couch just moved. "I think your couch is breathing," Jude says, leaning over and shoving at one of the cushions, then jumping back. "You sure it's safe?"

Jonny chuckles, the laugh turning into a cough as he yawns halfway through it. "Couch isn't breathing, Jude." He's too tired for the game, but he plays anyway. He nudges it with his knee, turns for the deadpan delivery. "It's hyperventilating 'cause you're in the room." And he must admit Jude's come up with a good excuse this time, real inventive.

"C'mon, you know where the bed is. And your side's not lumpy at all."

"It's not--" Jude stops talking as Jonny heads for the bedroom, cursing himself quietly and following. _It's not 'my side'._ But he shouldn't protest. Jonny's letting him in again. And this is what he's really here for, stories about Ewan's escapades and breathing couches aside. "I didn't wake you up too late?" he asks softly, slipping out of his shoes and unbuckling his belt.

"No, not really." Jonny ruffles his hair, then slides his hand to his stomach, bunching up his t-shirt and scratching new red marks across fading ones. "Just got to sleep." It'll go like this, the banter, till they're down the hall, safely tucked away in the bedroom. No one talks there, no lies, just whatever happens. "Anytime, you know. Oughta just give you a bloody key."

_But then I'd have to admit to coming over for this,_ Jude thinks, and shakes his head. "You don't need a new roommate and I don't need a place to sleep that often," he says instead. He's trying not to notice Jonny's skin. Not to think about how it looks when it's been bitten and bruised and marked. He's not doing very well with it.

Jonny doesn't have to look to know Jude's staring. He always does. Says he doesn't want it, doesn't need it. They both know it's a lie, one that's becoming harder to tell. "Nah, you don't," he says, fingers dancing with practiced ease over the Scorpio tattoo at the waistband of his boxers, _'cept when you want a shag, someone to play rough with_, " 'cept when Ewan's being arse." He steps forward, snakes the unbuckled belt from Jude's trousers. "S'alright, Jude, I don't mind you showing up when you need it."

Jude catches Jonny's wrist, stilling him. He bites at his lower lip, looks down at the floor, up to where his fingers are rubbing over the inside of Jonny's wrist. "I'm sorry," he says, a catch-all apology meant to stand in for all the different ones he probably owes at the moment. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Yeah, mate, we can go to bed." Jonny smiles, turns his wrist so it rubs more between Jude's fingers, the grasp comfortable in its uneasiness. "No need to be sorry. Ever."

He'd like to say _I'm not._ But if he weren't sorry about coming here this way, they wouldn't have to have these conversations, these moments before Jude finally makes up his mind and says _yes, I want you, please, like that._ He leans forward instead, brushes his lips against Jonny's instead of making Jonny come to him. It's not as hard as he expected.

Jonny doesn't mind being Jude's secret. Not that he really thinks it's a secret. But it's been this way since they met, and Jonny's not one to disturb the equilibrium, so when Jude initiates the kiss, Jonny allows it, leans into it, but doesn't do more. Jude needs to think he has the out, the ability to walk away, leave the flat, even though they both know it won't happen.

Jude slides both his hands up Jonny's hips, slips his fingers underneath Jonny's shirt and touches bare skin. _Oh. Yes._ "You're so warm," he murmurs. "Come on." Jonny's right; he knows where the bed is, and he catches Jonny's hand and pulls him back to the bedroom with him.

_Not as warm as I could be._ It's casual, treading the hardwood floor to the bedroom. There's no rush, no push-pull against the wall. That's how it is, too, has been. The roughness comes later. Always does. They can't help it. It's only at the door, before they slip in, that Jonny nudges Jude against the jamb, leans in and kisses Jude's throat, simple nuzzle.

"_Ahh._" Jude brings a hand up, settles it on the back of Jonny's neck and holds him close. His other arm goes around Jonny's waist, and he shifts his hips, rubs his half-hard cock against Jonny's hip. It's so good. He doesn't need to think about it. Never needs to think about it. Just needs to have it, this way, quiet and dark and no awkward questions in the morning.

Maybe today, when morning comes, Jonny'll ask an awkward question, the one that never gets spoken. Maybe, he thinks, grinding back, shifting his hip so he's rubbing Jude's cock full hard. He breathes, best he can, sucking in what's Jude and filtering out the remnant of Ewan -- it never lingers long -- and hands on Jude's waist, Jonny's stepping him back over the threshold. "Want," he whispers, "need, take." It's the closest they come to putting into words what's going to happen, what happens every time Jude shows up late into the night.

Jude push-pulls until Jonny's back near the bed, and then he shoves, a little harder, getting him tumbled down and falling down with him. It's always so good, and they don't have to talk about it. Jonny never needs him to talk. _Just do it._ Just find lips with lips and kiss, bite, take whatever's offered, give whatever Jonny's willing to take.

Jonny scoots back on the bed, almost till he's at the wall, and jerks his t-shirt off over his head, tossing it across the room. The scratches are faint. Some Jude's. The older ones are Sean's, all but faded now. Jonny doesn't go there like he used to, not since Jude's late-night visits became more frequent.

He kneels up, reaches out and wraps fingers around Jude's wrist, tugging him forward, deeper into the bed.

Months like this and Jude never gets less hungry for it. He lets Jonny catch his wrist, mirrors the move and pins Jonny's wrist to the mattress. Squirming, twisting, he shoves his thighs between Jonny's and then presses warm, openmouthed kisses to Jonny's throat, licking and biting.

Jonny's free hand goes to shoving Jude's shirt up, fingers gripping hard at warm flesh, nails digging in. He maneuvers, twisting, until he's nearly under Jude, still half-kneeling on the mattress, back against the wall. _Tonight, you get it all. Everything you want._

Jude lets Jonny's wrist go, wraps his arm around Jonny's back. God, he can't get close enough. He slides his other hand down into Jonny's pyjama bottoms, wrapping his fingers around Jonny's cock, squeeze-stroking until he feels precome smear the inside of his wrist.

Jonny's squeezing Jude's wrist, harder by the second, matching the grip on his own cock. His face is buried in Jude's neck and he licks, then sucks and, finally, bites, hard enough to think about drawing blood, but not doing it. He pushes Jude's arm around, snugging it in against the small of Jude's back, closing what miniscule distance exists between their bodies. It's a fight. Always is. Has to be, even if one of 'em's giving in eventually.

The bite drags a cry out of Jude, then a moan, and then he jerks his hand out of Jonny's pyjama bottoms, struggling back to get enough room to get out of his clothes. Is that giving in? Or is it just deciding that he's ready to have skin up against skin for this? He's not sure. Doesn't care. Only thing that matters is getting naked.

Naked. Sounds perfect. Jonny's out of the cotton flannel and down to flesh before Jude gets his shirt off. So he's eager. So what. His hands are on Jude's jeans, unbuttoning, jerking down, stripping his lover. Lover? Can he call him that?

Jude's never thought of applying labels to Jonny. That'd put a damper on his ability to go into things without thinking about them, to fool himself into thinking every time that he's not here for _this_, that it's just this once, not going to happen again. But Jonny's hands on his body are familiar. It's two in the morning and Jonny's getting Jude stripped as quick and easy as Jude could strip himself. There's not much use in pretending he's never been in this bed before.

Time for pretense is over. Jonny's staring into Jude's eyes as he pushes him back onto the mattress, pulls the jeans down his legs and tosses them over the bed's end. Then he's licking, at that crease at the side of the knee. Left knee. Jonny's discovered Jude's left side is more attuned to sensation. He wonders if it's because Jude's right-handed and that side of the body gets more attention. Doesn't really matter. He sucks on the flesh at the back of the knee, bracing his hands against the mattress beside Jude's hips, crouching low and feral.

"Fuck, oh God, _fuck_, Jonny, Christ I need your mouth on me, oh God, don't stop, don't stop--" Jude cuts himself off, tries to focus on anything but that feeling, that sensation, Jonny taking him apart one slow piece at a time. Jonny's driven him to tears before. It could happen again tonight; he can feel it.

Jonny stops, looks up, Jude's face ethereal in the flat's dim light. He knows what he can do, and knows Jude can turn around and do the same to him, have him in tears and begging. "My mouth _is_ on you, Jude." He licks along the inside of Jude's thigh to prove the point. And he purposely stops before his tongue even realizes there's a cock in the neighborhood.

"Jonny," Jude breathes, "_please_." Game, but not set or match. Round one to Jonny. He slips his hand into Jonny's hair, tugs him down a little further. "Please."

It may be round one to Jonny, but Jude's upping the ante for round two. Hand in hair. Jonny's pulled, although a court would be hard-pressed to rule that he didn't go willingly, and his mouth opens, the edge of lips brushing over the cock popping against them. "You want this?" He makes one last valiant pitch for being in control, but Jude's fingers tighten and Jonny's mouth takes a familiar route, tongue curling up under the cock as he moves forward.

Jude groans. "_Yes_, I want that -- oh, God -- just like that," he pants, fingers clenching up hard, releasing just to get a better grip and then tugging Jonny down further.

He's not choking. Not yet. Could be. Will most likely. Tends to happen when Jude forgets himself. For the moment, though, Jonny Lee's concentrating on sucking, getting Jude's cock as far down his throat as he can without gagging. Hasn't quite mastered that. Figures the longer he does Jude, the better he'll get.

Jude's certainly not going to object to Jonny practicing on him. He moves his hips in fits and starts, easing his cock deeper into Jonny's mouth while his hands clutch-tug at Jonny's hair, squeezing and urging him to take more. Not quite demanding, but it's a near thing.

No, it _is_ demanding, Jonny thinks, but he doesn't mind. Part of the give and take. Someday they'll figure out who's where in the dynamic. No rush. The choking slips in and Jonny turns his attention to sucking, suppressing the urge to throw up, and otherwise enjoying the ashy-salt taste slickening his throat.

Jude's torn between the need to spill over right here, down Jonny's throat, and the urge to have Jonny roll him over and fuck him hard. And there's nothing saying he can't have both. He just wants them both at once, and there's no anatomy shortcut that'll make that combination happen. He grins, easing his grip on Jonny's hair a little, letting Jonny do whatever he wants. Just about anything could make him come now.

Jonny's in the mood for surprises and stickiness. He pulls up, licking at Jude's cock as he peers up his lover's body. "Want you to come," he says, hand gripping around the shaft his mouth just left, "just like this. Then I'll fuck ya."

"_Yes_," Jude breathes, tugging Jonny's head back down, "just like that, then, come on, suck me, Jonny."

"No," Jonny says, shaking his head. "You gotta come like _this_, just me hand on your cock," and he starts stroking, slow and steady, "and breathing out over it and words of encouragement."

"Oh -- oh bloody _fuck_, mate," Jude whispers, head tilting back and throat arching. "Come on, that's not fair..."

Jonny blows a hot breath over the tip of Jude's cock. "Who said I had to be fair?"

"Ah -- _ah_ \-- a little -- faster, God, yes, fuck, and -- tighter, just--" Jude's head goes back, and he bucks his hips up hard, fucking Jonny's hand. "Oh fuck fuck fuck, so close, _please_\--"

"C'mon, Jude, just come." It's a haphazard command, but there's no formality in their lives. Jonny kisses the tip of Jude's cock, right above where his thumb is rubbing over the foreskin. "Let me have it."

Jude bites down on his lower lip, nearly bites through, and his come paints Jonny's hand, streaks over and smears his cheek. Jude's cock jerks, over and over, Jude gasping all the while, and he groans as Jonny strokes the last few jets out of him.

It's only after Jude's come, the last streams of white pulsed out, that Jonny uses his tongue again. He licks up through the sticky smears, curling his tongue around the base of Jude's shaft, lapping at oversensitized flesh.

Jude hisses, clutches the bedcovers as he tries to rock backward, away from Jonny's mouth. "Fuck, _fuck_... a little time to recover, mate, please. Begging."

Jonny pulls up after a last, long lick. "Alright." He pushes himself up to kneeling, nudging Jude's thighs apart with his hands. "Can you snag a condom? Nightstand. Spot of lube would be nice, too."

"If I have to," Jude complains, but the complaint's not serious and he reaches up and over for the condoms, tossing one down along with a random tube of lube. He remembers a time he ended up smelling of cinnamon and nearly screaming from the burn, so this is not without its dangers, but right at the moment he cares about getting fucked far more than he cares about protecting his arse from the possibility of burn.

"Oh, you don't have to. I got no problems with fuckin' you dry, mate, just what's on the rubber." Jonny's grinning as he picks up both packets. "Your arse. You're the one's gotta hurt for days, go back to the flat and 'splain to Ewan." The grin's wider. "Less you plan on just staying here."

Jude makes a face -- actually, makes several faces -- before squirming down the bed another inch and spreading his legs apart wider. "I'll take the lube, if it's still on offer," he says, rubbing his hand over his face. "Hadn't thought about where I'm staying."

"Yeah, always on offer. Lube. Place to stay." Jonny unrolls the condom, slicks his hand over his cock and then smears his fingers, shoving two into Jude's arse, wriggling them around, twisting and raking back over the right spots.

It's almost too much, coming too soon after orgasm, but Jude slides his hands up above his head, braces against the wall and pushes himself down on Jonny's fingers. "Yeah... oh, feels good..."

"Bet I could get you hard again, just with this." Jonny scissors, then twines his fingers, pulling back and sliding in a third, working till the knuckles of his last finger and thumb are pressing into flesh, nudging everything else deeper.

Jude clenches up hard, just once, then lets go and exhales softly. "Probably could," he murmurs. "But then you'd have to wait to fuck me." He's trying not to squirm now, Jonny's hand stretching him open wide -- so wide it's not hard to imagine how it'd feel if he pushed just a little further and buried his hand deep. _Yeah, nice thing to wank to, but a little outside your territory, isn't it?_

"Well, yeah, there is that downside." Jonny pushes just a bit harder, watching Jude's reaction, then jerks his fingers out, wipes the remaining lube on his cock and tugs Jude's body to him, lining up, shoving in, sinking himself all the way in one swift movement. "Not waiting. Though might come back to that hand thing. You looked like you wanted more."

"Jesus, Jonny--" Jude arches up, curls his body around Jonny's and sinks his nails into Jonny's arms. "This way, come on, fuck me. I can take it."

That's a given, Jonny thinks. Jude's taken it hard before. He has. They don't play by any who's on top rules. He gives it to his lover just the way he's asking for. Pull back. Slam in. Repeat. No finesse, just fucking. And Jude doesn't relent either, nails digging in. "Fuck it, Jude, you're gonna leave bruises, not to mention draw blood."

"You complaining?" Jude asks, rocking his hips up hard, planting both feet on the bed for leverage and _shoving_. "Someone going to mind it if you're marked up?"

"Not. A. Damned. Bit." Jonny shoves back on each word. No one's gonna mind him being marked. Sean doesn't give a damn, not that he ever did. And that's the closest Jonny's come to having anyone. Well, other than Jude.

"Good," Jude hisses, not sure if he means it to what Jonny's saying or what he's doing, and in the end it doesn't matter. He wants to see Jonny marked, wants to know there are bruises on his shoulders when he slings an arm around them the next day. "Fucking good, just like that. _Yes._"

Bloody hell, it is good, Jonny thinks, better than it's been before. _What's changed?_ A few more thrusts. Just there. Right, almost. "Brilliant, mate. So good." Jonny comes, pulsing hard into the latex, fingers grasping Jude's hips, squeezing, making marks of his own.

Jude wraps an arm around Jonny, panting quietly. _This is different,_ he thinks, and he doesn't want to put a finger on why. He just doesn't want Jonny going anywhere, either.

Jonny stretches out over Jude's chest, nuzzling at his neck. He's not going anywhere. "That was spot on," he murmurs. "Shower or sleep sticky?"

"Sleep sticky," Jude mumbles, wrapping arms and legs around Jonny. _Right here. Stay right here._


	4. No Excuse For That

There was something different about it after the last time, and if Jude had stayed in the morning, they might have talked about it. Might have even gotten somewhere. Naturally, Jude was out the door before Jonny was fully awake. Hasn't been back since.

But it's been three months now and he's tired of waiting. Tired of making all those damn excuses to himself. He's out front at Jonny's, knocking at the door, and he doesn't have a fucking clue what he's going to say. Maybe the truth this time. He's never tried that.

It's early evening, not even midnight. Jonny's reading a script, film he may or may not take, something that'll drag him away from London. He's fully dressed, jumper and jeans, socks but no shoes, and he drops the pages at the knock, pulling himself from the couch.

He's not expecting Jude. Not since the last time. Three months. More or less. He's not sure he should expect Jude to ever show up again. So there's a bit of suprise on opening the door, on finding Jude standing there, smiling. "Hi." Jonny leaves the door open and walks back to the couch, settling down on one end, picking the script back up. "Beer's in the fridge if you want."

"Right..." Jude comes in, closes the door behind him. Jonny looks... disinterested, this time. Or maybe not. Maybe the script's just that good. Jude fidgets with his hands for a second before heading to the other end of the couch, kicking his shoes off before stretching his legs out, one toe poking Jonny's leg. "How've you been?"

"Fine. Good." _Missing you, but damned if I'll admit it._ Jonny glances over at Jude. It's been three minutes since he's been in the flat; they're supposed to be headed to bed. Not this time. Jonny's tired of the game. All give, get nothing. "You? Still at Ewan's, I imagine."

"Uh, yeah..." Jude doesn't know why that's coming up. He shrugs, slides a foot onto Jonny's lap. _You're playing hard-to-get this time._ "I missed you. Didn't know if you wanted to see me."

"Well, I haven't moved. You could've come 'round any time you wanted." Jonny's not playing hard-to-get as much as he's exasperated with the status quo. He's tired of waking up to an empty bed because Jude can't deal with them being together. Or whatever it is Jude can't handle.

Jude frowns, not at all sure he likes how this is going. "I'm here now," he says.

"Yeah, you are." Jonny puts the script down, not really interested in it at the moment. "So, want anything special?" _At some point, Jude, you're going to have to flat out ask._

"Look, what's the matter with you?" Jude asks crossly, taking his leg off Jonny's lap. He shoves himself back into the corner of the couch and just barely resists the urge to cross his arms over his chest. "I'm here -- I said I missed you -- what else do you need?"

"Why are you here, Jude?" Jonny hadn't even realized Jude's leg was on him. He turns, kneels up on the couch, moves closer to Jude. "What do you want from me?"

"What do you think I want?" Jude asks, but it's a question that leaves far too much room and Jude only realizes it as such after the words are out.

"I don't know, Jude. You come over, usually in the middle of the night, with some excuse that ends us up in bed within 10 minutes, and then you're gone before I wake up." Jonny leans in, hovers over Jude. He's not smiling. Not frowning, either. Just flatlined. "I've given up trying to figure it out."

"What's to figure?" Jude asks, frustrated. He grabs for Jonny's shoulders, spreads his legs as he tries to pull Jonny down. "I want you."

Hands go out, instinctive reaction to being tugged, and Jonny's bracing his palms against Jude's chest to keep from being toppled over. "Then tell me. Ask. Be specific, Jude. Don't just keep showing up and leaving."

Jude grimaces. "So it's not enough?" he asks, letting Jonny brace himself, not trying to get any closer. "You never said anything. You've _never_ said it wasn't enough and you've never tried to say no before."

Jonny pushes himself off Jude, falling back against the couch. "Not saying no now. And it's enough," he says, voice flatter than before, "if it has to be. Just ... fuck, Jude ... I want you, too, but this is driving me crazy."

"You never said." Jude sits up, shakes his head. "You're changing all the fucking rules on me."

"Rules? There were fuckin' rules? I missed that meeting." Jonny's voice goes up a notch, but he's not shouting. Not yet. "Please, Jude, tell me the rules."

"Oh, fuck, that's not what I meant," Jude says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But this isn't what we do." They don't talk about it. They sure as hell don't fight about it. This isn't how it's supposed to work.

No, this isn't how it's supposed to work. Or maybe it is. Jonny's not sure. Of anything. "No, what we do is fuck and suck and kiss and never say anything." Maybe they should talk. Or fight.

"What the fuck is there to _say_, Jonathan?" Jude shakes his head, pushes himself up off the couch. "Maybe I should go."

_Jonathan? Where'd that come from?_ "Yeah, maybe you should." Jonny wants to stop Jude from leaving, wants to tell him 'no, stay,' but maybe this is better. Jude can go home to Ewan and be consoled, and yeah, maybe Jonny'll ring up Sean.

_You're not even going to try to stop me, are you?_ Jude shakes his head again, heads for the door. "If you wanted it to stop, all you had to do was tell me 'no'," he says.

Let him go or stop him? Jonny has to make a choice. "Didn't want it to stop," he mutters. It's not stopping him, but it's making an effort. Minimal.

Jude stops with one hand against the door, grits his teeth together before closing his eyes. "I didn't, either," he says.

"Shite." Jonny's moving slowly, coming off the couch and just standing, shoving hands in pockets. "Should I beg? That what you want? Or just seduce you into bed again?"

And again, it feels like a standstill. Jude turns around, grabs Jonny by the shirt and spins around with him, pushing him into the door. "I don't want you to beg," he says. "I just want it to be the way it's _been_."

"It can't," Jonny says, not wanting the words to come out, but they do. "It's been months, Jude. How long do we go like this? Five years? That'd match the first five of not even acknowledging each other."

"I don't know." Jude lets go, pushes back and runs a hand through his hair. "I never thought of years on or, fuck, months on when we were doing it before. I just came here because I wanted--" _Wanted what? An easy fuck? A night's company?_ "--you," Jude says, stepping back even further.

"Then why didn't you ever stay around?" Jonny leans back into the door, bangs his head gently against it. That's what this boils down to, the unanswered question. "If you want me, why are you so quick to leave every time?"

"Because I'm not ready to fucking pick out curtains and move in. I don't _want_ that. I don't want to make all the promises you do when it's a _thing_, I didn't want a _thing_ in the first place. Fuck."

"Fuck, Jude, I'm not bloody asking you to marry me. Just don't run off in the morning. Is that so hard?" Jonny bangs his head again. Only thing he can think to do with his nervous energy. "And if you didn't want a thing, why'd you come over in the first place."

"Stop it." Jude bridges the gap again, slides his hands into Jonny's hair and pins him there, safe from banging his head against the damned door anymore. "Christ, just stop it. I came because I wanted you. I didn't think further ahead than that."

Jonny leans back a last time, banging Jude's hand instead of wood, and he grins. "I didn't either, think ahead that is," he says, reaching out, putting his hands on Jude's hips, pulling him closer, "until I kept waking up alone, and it pisses me off. Want you to stay the _whole_ night. Don't have to make promises."

"Why don't you ever come to me?" Jude murmurs, letting Jonny tug him in. He brushes his cheek against Jonny's -- might not help, but God, he's unsettled as hell and he needs the closeness. "Why don't you ever make a move when you're over at our place?"

"What? 'Excuse me, Ewan, I need to shag your flatmate. Mind?' Just never felt right." Jonny kisses Jude's cheek. It's not seduction or changing the subject. He needs the connecting, so there's the kiss as his hands wrap around Jude's back. "And don't at the pub 'cause, well, you're not 'xactly as open as I've been."

"I know." Jude bites -- gently for once -- up the line of Jonny's jaw. "Christ, though, you don't have to wait for me." He did, though. They both know he did, and if it's different now then it's a new development.

"What if I want to?" Jonny asks quietly. "What if I want to make sure when you come out the other side?"

Another dozen questions run through Jude's mind, but it occurs to him that he's been asking all the questions tonight, giving up very few answers, and he settles in to think about that. _What if I want to wait?_

"I think waiting's just got us where we are now," Jude murmurs. "With me taking you for granted and you wondering whether I'll still be there in the morning. Maybe I've been waiting for you, too. Waiting for you to pin me down. Tell me not to go."

"Don't go." Jonny barely whispers the words. There's so much fear they'll fall into a crack, disappear. But, then, Jude said 'em first, so maybe Jonny doesn't have to be afraid. "Come to bed. Don't leave before the sun rises."

Jude feels like Cinderella. There's a trick, a catch, something that's going to go _wrong_ if he stays.

But then, the alternative doesn't seem like much of an option, either. "All right," Jude whispers, licking the invitation off Jonny's lips. "I'll stay."

It's not a promise. Jonny knows that. Doesn't take it as such. Just takes it like Jude means it. He'll stay. Jonny pulls back, letting his hand trail down Jude's arm till he's holding his hand. "C'mon, then, luv, take you to bed." He smiles. "Fuck you till you can't think anymore."

"Yeah," Jude says softly, and then a little stronger, "_yeah_," and he steps back to let Jonny come away from the door, lets Jonny lead them back toward bed.

Jonny leads, tugging Jude back along the familiar hallway into the bedroom. He has a wry, wicked grin when he stops. "Undress," he says. "No, strip for me, Jude. Show each other how much we want this?"

Jude feels a flush working its way up his shoulders, toward his neck, his cheeks, but he nods anyway. It's not difficult. Just taking off his clothes and knowing Jonny's watching him. Just stripping for a lover, if he can call Jonny that. He licks his lips before he gets started, then unbuttons his shirt one slow movement at a time, eyes locked on Jonny's. He can feel himself starting to breathe faster, and if there's a sense of nervousness, a fear of looking too thin or too dark or too hairy, he lets it go. _Doesn't matter. Here now._ And Jonny's never made Jude feel like he wasn't enough.

"You're beautiful. So sexy." Jonny touches Jude's shoulder as the shirt slips over the flesh and down Jude's arm. It's never been quite like this, slow and easy. Jonny's finding it a nice change. He slides his hand down across Jude's chest. "The best of all of us."

"You're cracked," Jude says, but he's not stopping Jonny from touching him. Doesn't think he could even if he wanted to. He exhales softly, takes Jonny's hand and slips it lower, cupping his cock. "Want you," he murmurs.

"Want you. So much." Jonny squeezes, harder than he needs. "In every way imaginable. Now finish stripping so I can have you."

Jude nods and pulls back, and he hopes Jonny doesn't mind if he's a little faster with the rest of his clothes than he was with his shirt. It's not as much of a show this way, but he wants Jonny _now_ \--in him, hands all over him, taking him like he doesn't want to let him go.

"Even when you speed up, it's still sexy," Jonny says, tugging at his own t-shirt and pulling it up his chest. He's never thought himself particularly handsome, not like Jude, and he's always been self-conscious about being naked, but he's undressing, shirt over his head, for Jude, for his lover.

"I'd rather look at you," Jude says, reaching out and sliding his hands down Jonny's chest when the shirt comes off. "Rather be touching you." His fingers move up Jonny's sides, thumbs reach in and graze circles around his nipples. "You feel good."

"Hmm, like that." Jonny licks his lips. "Feels damned good. More?" He moves his hands to his jeans, works on the buttons while Jude teases his flesh.

Jude bends down, tongue flicking out, tracing the same path his thumb was making -- slow, even, light circles, more tease than lick.

"Oh, god, Jude, please." Jonny's begging, wanting more tonight than he ever has. He fumbles, gets the buttons undone and shoves his jeans down his legs. "C'mon, more."

_More_ puts Jude on his knees, dragging his face down Jonny's stomach and lower, breathing hot air over Jonny's cock before cupping it in a hand and licking up the underside.

Jonny's not sure he's ever seen such a nice sight. No, he's positive. There's nothing more beautiful than Jude sinking to his knees. Jonny strokes Jude's hair, tangles his fingers in the short hair. "That's good, Jude, wonderful."

Jude nods against Jonny's fingers, opens his mouth wider and draws Jonny's cock in. He doesn't do this often. He should -- fair's fair -- but somehow being on his knees like this says all kinds of things he doesn't want to say. Most of the time. Not tonight. Tonight it's all right.

Tonight it's perfect, unspoken cravings. Jonny braces his stance and fucks Jude's mouth, slow in and out, holding his lover's head steady. It's not harsh, but on the edge. It's control Jonny needs, that he's taking, showing and not just telling Jude how much he wants him there. Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as it lasts.

Jude's eyes are closed, lashes dark over his cheek as he moves with Jonny's thrusts, keeping the pace slow and rubbing his tongue back and forth when Jonny pulls back. It's amazing, Jonny's cock hot and thick in his mouth, and he moans, pushing forward to take more.

_Good boy._ Thought, not spoken. Jonny suspects it'd be too much, to venture there, take Jude to realms Sean's nudged Jonny toward. He twines and tangles his fingers, tugging and then stroking the hair. It's perfect, Jude's mouth taking everything Jonny wants to give. _C'mon, just a bit more._ He shoves forward, harsher than before, pushing his cock to swab the back of Jude's throat.

The move surprises, but it shouldn't. Jude's fucked Jonny's mouth like that, and he shouldn't be at all surprised that Jonny wants it that way, _harder_, cock filling Jude's mouth and demanding more. Jude gets his hands on Jonny's hips and digs his fingers in, steadying himself as he opens his throat wider.

Jonny's losing himself, sinking into another place, another mind. "That's it, boy," he slurs out, making a few last quick, deep thrusts, coming hard at the back of Jude's throat, not letting go, barely letting Jude breathe. "Swallow it. Take it all."

_Boy._ But the word doesn't form as a question in Jude's head, and he doesn't mind hearing it for some reason. He swallows, like he's been told to, like a good boy (_oh, God_) and holds tight, not caring if he chokes.

Jude's not going to choke. Jonny won't let him. But he does take him to the edge, pushing until he hears that first gasp. Then he pulls back, pulls his cock from Jude's mouth, eases his grip on Jude's hair. "Beautiful boy," Jonny murmurs. "Wanna fuck me now?"

"_Yes._" Jude looks up, eyes bright. "God, yeah. Want to fuck you. Feel myself inside you. Please."

"Want that." Jonny rubs his hand down around the back of Jude's neck. "You inside me. Now."

Jude stands up in one fluid motion and wraps an arm around Jonny's waist, squeezing hard. "Get to bed with you," he murmurs, licking Jonny's collarbone. "Go on."

"Yes, sir," Jonny says, smirking. "Bed." He moves when Jude's tongue is off him, stretching before he crawls onto the bed, up its length and rolls over, sprawling. "Have a preference? Up, down, sideways?"

"Sideways?" Jude asks, maybe a bit hesitantly. "Curled up behind you. With my arm over your waist. Could we do it like that?"

He thinks for a moment. Haven't ever done that. Not that he can recall. "Yeah, we can do that." Jonny rolls over, toward the wall. "Got enough room, you think?"

"Doesn't take much," Jude murmurs, climbing in. He reaches back for the lube, the condom, rolling the condom on and then flipping the cap of the lube open. "Just need enough to get myself inside you."

"Doesn't matter if you hurt me, Jude," he whispers. "Just fuck me."

"I don't want it to be about hurting you," Jude says, slicking his fingers and working them into Jonny's arse. "Not tonight."

Jonny moans, a long hiss of breath following it. "Oh, yeah, that hits the spot. Perfect. Mnngh."

Jude takes a moment to make sure Jonny's stretched for him -- they do it this way 'round so seldom that he wants to be careful with it -- and then he slides his fingers out and lines his cock up, and he wraps an arm around Jonny's waist, pulling him back slowly as he moves in deep.

He's leaning back, head on Jude's shoulder, and it's awkward for the first moment, the position seeming all out of sorts, but then Jude's inside Jonny and it's, he moans, perfect. It's filling him, more than he thinks it ever has before. Maybe that's just because he's wanting it so much. Jonny reaches his hand back, curling fingers around Jude's hip, pulling them tighter together.

"_Ohhhhh..._" Jude gasps, presses his hips forward even more. "Oh, God, Jonny... feels so good..." He licks the back of Jonny's neck, starts moving with slow, easy rocking motions. "So good..."

It's not as hurried as they usually are, the motions gentle, a slow heat building steadily, never threatening to explode. Jonny pushes back, as he can, not insistent at all, just rocking with Jude. "Damn, that's," he starts, thought interrupted by the a wave of sweet pleasure. "Fuck, Jude, do that again."

"This?" Jude presses forward again the same way, slow sweet slide that he thinks must be dragging over nerves just right. And God, just the thought that he's pleasing Jonny as much as he is -- it's perfect, gorgeous and perfect, and he doesn't want it to stop.

"Oh, yeah." Jonny doesn't care that his voice goes up nearly an octave as Jude's glide hits dead-on every nerve he has. "That's it." He's clutching fingers at Jude's hip. "Damn, this feels good. Never been so," he pauses, trying to find the right word, "gentle."

"So easy," Jude whispers back. And that's exactly how it feels. Easy. Like they aren't having to fight for it. He tightens his arm around Jonny's waist. "God, yeah... fuck..." And he doesn't have to leave. Decision's made already. He rests his head against the back of Jonny's neck and keeps going, though the strokes are starting to drive him insane.

"Want you to come. Wanna feel it," Jonny murmurs. _Want you to stay. Maybe forever._ He doesn't think he should say the words. Not quite yet. Maybe in the morning, maybe if Jude doesn't dash off. For now, Jonny's just happy with things the way they are.

Jude groans, sound blunted against the back of Jonny's neck. His strokes speed up, need to come starting to build up, overwhelm him. "_Yes_, oh God, Jonny--" He bites at Jonny's shoulder, thoughts wrapped up in a mixture of _yours_ and _oh God feels so good_. "_Fuck..._" That's all he can stand; his teeth dig in _hard_ as he comes, groaning under his teeth and coming until his body shakes with it.

"Fuck, yes." Jonny hisses out the words, Jude's shudders shaking his body. He tightens his hold on Jude's hip, fingers gouging and nails digging in. It's more intense, he thinks, than it's ever been before. Maybe that's just his imagination. _Yours. Like this. Always._ Doesn't matter if it's real or not. It's happening.

It's a while before Jude recovers. His face is pressed hard against Jonny's skin, and he doesn't want to let go, doesn't even want to move. _And I'm not leaving. I'm staying tonight._ The idea's stopped making him nervous.

Jonny doesn't want to move either, but they're going to have to, at some point. Aren't they? He's snuggling back against Jude's body. "Want a hot shower?" he asks "Or just sleep?"

"Let's take the shower," Jude murmurs. "Go to sleep after."

"That means we have to move." Jonny sighs. "You first, too, 'cause I'm kinda stuck here till you do."

Jude groans. The shower does sound good, but moving... He grunts and slowly pries his body away from Jonny's, then rolls out of bed.

Jonny rolls onto his back. It's as much as he can muster for a moment. He looks up at Jude, smiles, thinking on what a great visual it is, how natural it seems, just watching Jude move across the room. Finally he manages to push himself up, wince as his back catches the wrong way. Yeah, shower's gonna be great.


	5. Not Asking To Be Excused

The dream's good. Jonny's suffocating, drowning in a lack of air. But that's because Jude's wrapped around him, pushing his face into the pillow.

The dream's perfect. It means Jude didn't leave. Jonny doesn't want to wake up and spoil it with reality. So he shifts and ignores the light filtering in from the window over the bed, content in his oxygen-deprived fantasy.

Jude grunts as his bed moves, shifts under him. He'd like to tell it to hold still, that he's sleeping, but he's not awake enough for words yet. On the other hand, parts of his bed are nice and warm. And... mm. Warmth. He squeezes tighter, wraps a leg over Jonny's, heads back for dreamland.

The dream lingers until necessity forces Jonny awake. That snarling in the pit of his stomach, the heaviness. He needs to take a piss, so he rolls over. Or, rather, he tries. His bed doesn't have walls on either side, he knows, so the obstacle can't be ... he opens his eyes slowly.

"Jude?"

"Uhhn." Jude rolls over, faces the edge of the bed. "Too early. Gi'me half an hour."

_Jude._ Jonny nudges the body wrapped around him. Yeah, it's real. Not a dream. Jude didn't leave. "C'mon, mate, move off me," he says, "gotta piss."

Jude slowly blinks his eyes open. "Fuck, Jonny," he mumbles, "okay, okay," and he gets himself untangled from the covers and from Jonny, shoving out of bed.

Jonny doesn't wait for Jude to get all the way out of bed. He scrambles over him, pushing Jude back down to the mattress. "Back in a sec," he says, stumble-walking to the bathroom. _Please, don't be gone when I get back._

Leaving is Jude's first impulse, and he fights it down, slinging an arm over his eyes. _Shite. Hell. Fuck._

It's a record-breaking morning piss since Jonny's not inclined to leave Jude alone for long. He washes his hands and runs wet fingers through his bed-head hair, brushing it into control, and pops back into the bedroom.

"You want?" He motions over his shoulder to the bathroom, then glances at the clock. Barely morning. "Then back to sleep if you like."

"Uh." Jude squeezes his eyes shut behind his arm. "Yeah." _Get up, piss, come back to bed. Come on. World hasn't ended yet. Won't end if you stay._ "Yeah," he says again, finally taking his arm off his eyes, and he squints up at Jonny as he pushes himself upright and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Christ. Jonny looks good, morning hair and all.

People really shouldn't be _that_ sexy first thing in the morning, but Jude is, hair curling just a bit on the ends. Jonny walks back to the bed, sits down on the edge. Wants to say something. Can't think of the right words. Or, at least, words that won't scare Jude off. So he just scoots himself back to the wall and nudges Jude's hip with his toes.

"Go on. Gonna get cold before long."

Jude half-yelps and stands up. "Christ, talking of cold," he says, voice fading into a mumble as he heads for the toilet, "toes shouldn't get that cold, the man needs woolly socks..." He sighs with relief once he makes it into the bathroom, even though the tiles are freezing under his feet. Morning piss squared away, he washes his hands and pads back to bed, sliding under the covers and hesitating for a moment before scooting closer to Jonny.

Jonny's snuggled under the covers, feet a touch warmer, and he wraps his arm around Jude's waist. Awkward. A little. Strange. A lot. He's not used to having anyone in bed come morning. Ever. Odd, nice sensation. "Glad you're here," Jonny whispers. "That you didn't leave."

It's so strange, so awkward, and Jude hasn't had time to figure out if it feels good or not. But he'd swear Jonny's never looked this good, and that's something to hold on to. He leans into Jonny's arms, exhaling softly, hoping the nervousness will slack off.

Awkward slides into tentative, the touch hesitant as Jonny runs his hand up Jude's back, leans in, ghosting a kiss over Jude's lips. It's a start. To where he hasn't a clue. He just knows they're moving forward, not backward.

Jude kisses back, slowly at first but with confidence building. He rolls Jonny onto his back, holds him down while he kisses him again.

Jude didn't leave. That's a comfort. More than. _Maybe he'll really stay this time._ Jonny smiles under the kiss, relaxing his body, letting Jude take the lead.

Jude's not used to the lead, but he holds onto it, keeps Jonny pinned down. He groans quietly, barely even thinking about his cock; right now, just kissing him feels good.

Jonny lets Jude lead. Five minutes. Ten. The kissing deepens, tongue parting lips and mapping out a lover's mouth. Then he's pushing back, sucking on Jude's lower lip, hard just to the edge of biting.

_Oh._ The near-bite feels good, and Jude meets it with a hard, sucking bite of his own. He lets Jonny's hands go free as he starts licking down the side of Jonny's throat, wanting his lips and teeth all over Jonny now. That feeling of needing it -- it's subdued this morning, not the way it usually feels. Like they've got time, this once. Like they don't have to rush, and they can take all the time they need.

There's no need to rush. Time starts to slow. The only thing Jonny's concentrating on is the slide of Jude's tongue over his throat. Rough. Sweet. Intense. He's ignoring his cock, tamping back on any need other than Jude's mouth on his skin. All over.

_This is what happens when you stay,_ Jude thinks, and he slides lower, rubbing his face in Jonny's chest hair, working his way to a nipple. He licks a slow circle around it, bites it gently. _This is what you've been afraid of._

Jonny shifts into the caress of tongue, Jude's mouth sucking on the hair before his teeth sink in. "Christ, Jude," he whispers, "that feels so good. Better than I imagined."

"It's better this way," Jude agrees, breath hot against Jonny's skin. _It's better when I'm not already making up excuses that'll send me home in the morning._ He moves lower, licking down Jonny's side all the way to his hip.

"So much better this way." Jonny slides his hand around Jude's neck, pulls him closer, tighter. _I'm not worried you're leaving. Not worried if you're coming back._ "Can stay this way," he says, hesitant voice, lower than a whisper. "If you want."

"With my face on your hip?" Jude asks, grinning. He bites at the thin skin over Jonny's hipbone. He knows exactly what Jonny means. It's still hard to think about staying. About letting things change.

"Ouch," Jonny says, half-joking and only partly minding the pain. "Yeah, mate, stay right there, your face plastered to my skin." Actually, it's not _that_ bad an idea. Jonny likes Jude where he is. But it's not what he meant. And they both know it. Won't talk about it. Not yet. Maybe later, over croissants and coffee.

"Right here?" Jude asks. "Or a little to the right?" He starts moving, licking down the crease of Jonny's thigh.

"That's actually better." Jonny's voice is light, almost whimsical. "A little more to the right, though, and down a few centimetres. That should do it."

"Here, then?" Jude slips his tongue down across Jonny's inner thigh. "Or is that teasing just a little too much, and you want my mouth..." He slides his tongue over the underside of Jonny's cock, swirling it over the tip when he gets there. "Here?"

"Oh, fuck sick, god." Jonny's floored by the departure of Jude's tongue from its assuredly predetermined course of teasing. "That's just perfect spot, Jude." He's biting his lip to keep from just jerking his fingers through Jude's short hair and slamming his head down farther. "Brill, mate."

_Of course it is. It's me, isn't it?_ But Jude's mouth is too busy to think of things like giving Jonny a bit of light snark; he's got his lips wide open and he's taking the head of Jonny's cock in. And it occurs to him that they never joke in bed; there's never that sense of relaxation that they have _out_ of the bedroom. Fuck it. Jude's not going to second-guess himself. He's going to go with what feels right this morning. No more thinking.

And it feels _so_ damned right. Jonny's not thinking beyond the moment, the sensation of Jude's warm mouth sliding down his cock. He can't. The future's too bleary.

More. _More_... God, it's so good, Jonny's cock filling his mouth, warm and smooth against his tongue, and Jude starts sucking, slowly moving up and down. Still no rush. This can last. Things can stay this way: easy, no need to overthink.

There's no rush, and Jonny's not wanting to change that but he does push. Just a little. It's more shifting angle and his cock slips easily a bit deeper. He twines his fingers into Jude's hair, playing with the strands. It's a lover's move. _Lover. Is that right? We're not lovers. Fuckbuddies. Maybe. But ..._ Jonny moans when Jude responds, tongue pressing up into the underside of his cock.

_So good._ Jude's getting eager for it, hungry for more. He wants the roughness, the force they bring to Jonny's bed sometimes. Not because he wants to go back, but because -- goddamnit, Jonny's so _good_ when he's hungry and demanding. He forces his mouth down harder. He's still not overthinking anything. He's staying. He's not going anywhere. But he wants his mouth fucked.

"Damn." Jonny lets out the expletive and then bites his lip. His fingers tighten. If Jude wants it, Jude can have it. He's clutching at Jude's hair, holding the head steady. Then he pushes forward, a hard, driving shove into Jude's mouth. "Take it." He pulls back and thrusts again, fucking Jude's mouth with a sudden harshness.

_Yes._ Jude struggles not to choke, keeps his mouth open as wide as he can manage it, but otherwise goes still, giving his mouth and his throat to Jonny to use as hard as he wants. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows full well this doesn't make up for anything, but God, _God_ it's so good, it doesn't need to make up for what he hasn't given Jonny in the past.

Jonny doesn't mean to be cruel, not deliberately. He's never been one to really top, but Jude's so willing and Jonny's waited so long to have he wants that he doesn't control the desire, the urge to shove deep into Jude's throat, to hold there until Jude's almost gagging, and then pull back, start over. He makes it last as long as he can, until he's too far gone, and his cock's dripping. He comes, hands unrelenting in their hold on Jude's head, wanting to shout _Take it_ and add the _slut_ or _whore_ rattling in his brain. Instead, he just screams.

And Jude's got no choice but to swallow, take _everything_ he's been given and lick and suck to tell Jonny he wants more. _More._ It could be like this all week, he thinks, coming back to Jonny's at night and giving and taking 'til he can barely walk. Doesn't have to end. _Why've I been such a fucking coward about it?_

"All of it. That's good." Jonny praises, stopping short of anything like boy or slut or even _mine_. When his cock's hurting from too much release, he lays back into the sheets, slowly untangling his fingers from Jude's hair. _Fuck, I want that every night. Why can't I have it?_

Jude pulls back slowly, licking over the tip of Jonny's cock before sliding his mouth off with a sharp suck. He collapses right there, head on Jonny's thigh, breathing unevenly. "Want this," he whispers, voice rough.

"Me, too," Jonny says, just as softly. "Think we should try?"

Jude nods against Jonny's thigh. "Yes."

So much power in a single word. Yes. But what does it mean? They're a couple? They keep doing this? Jonny's delighted and scared to death. He touches fingers to Jude's shoulder, rubs in small circles. "You wanna stay a few days?" It's a starting point.

And it feels like a good one. Jude nods. "Yeah," he whispers. "I'll stay a few days." And they don't have to make any more promises than that. Not yet.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This was cowritten with [Luna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna), who shared her enthusiastic and adorable Jonny Lee Miller muse with me for it. Luna passed away in March 2010, and is greatly missed.


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